CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 21
I can barely focus enough during the day to know if the bands I'm listening to are any good. Now that Jeremiah and Ezekiel aren't sneaking out to see me, we're back to texting all day, so between that and the excitement for tonight, I'm practically counting on Heather to be the one in charge of the bands today. They don't tell me where we're going, and knowing me, they've forbidden me from looking for nearby restaurants.

“Someone’s distracted,” Heather sings.

I stared at her. "It's your fault. They're here, and now I can't think about anything but them. You know, them and the burger you talked me into staying in my room with."

She laughs. “I’ll take all the blame for making love easier.”

Love, my mind whispers. My eyes widened at the sound of it, because for the first time, it wasn't a hiss or a mockery of the word. But... an acceptance of it. It's thrilling and terrifying in equal measure, but what I feel most is a realization. More like a revelation to me. I love them.

I love them.

It happened sometime when I was still trying to convince myself I didn't have feelings for them. It happened with every text and call that stretched into the late hours. It happened with every touch and kiss. It happened as I lay between them at night and woke up between them in the morning.

"What's that look for?" she asks, frowning.

I just smile, not sure if I'm ready to say those words to Ezekiel and Jeremiah, let alone her. "Nothing. Um, I definitely wasn't paying attention. Were any of them any good?"

"The second one." He chuckles, shaking his head. "I think it's best if they offer a good musical mix."

I nod. “Then we’ll go with them.”

"Really?" she exclaims.

—You say they're good, so they are.—

She smiles, and I'm glad I was able to give her a little confidence boost. I definitely know I needed it when I was in college. Before Sarah and Kamila came along, I only had my mom to cheer me on, and her encouragements were short, while her stories about her new loves were long. This event for the hospital could be career-defining. If I impressed the men and women who came—people with deep pockets—then I'd be ready. But if I failed, they wouldn't give me a chance. I don't even know if Law could convince the board to hire me for the next event.

Planning Sarah and Laws's wedding was one thing. The pressure was even greater: making sure my best friend had the best, stress-free day possible. However, this charity event had even more pressure and higher stakes.

"Okay," I say, letting everything go for a moment to focus. "What else do we need to do?"

Obviously, Jackson is already ready as chef. Since you've confirmed the menu options he offered us, now I just need to make sure he has everything he needs. The floral arrangements, the decor, and all the items for the silent auction are ready. Sarah asked Law who shouldn't sit together and sent me a list. I should finish the seating chart tonight for you to review.' She smiles. 'Well, tomorrow morning. I know you'll be busy tonight.'

And what about you? Are you going out with Sonny again?

He hasn't asked me yet, but we've been texting, so maybe. He knows it's my last night here, so we'll see how much he wants to see me again before I leave.

We pack up, and Heather teases me most of the way back to the hotel with how excited I seem. There's no point in denying it. I just know they're waiting for me in my room. I think about what we'll do when we get back to the room after dinner. I'm still hurting from last night, but I know it won't stop me from doing it again tonight.

“Have a good night,” Heathers says when we get to our rooms.

—You too. If Sonny doesn't write to you, you write to him.—

\-Maybe.-

Then I opened the door, and there they were. Ezekiel was sprawled in a chair, the remote in his hand, and Jeremiah came out of the bedroom, stopping to smile at me as he entered. He leaned against the doorframe as his eyes scanned my body.

"We were waiting for you," he says.

—Well, neither of them are naked, so clearly the wait wasn't too tiring.

His eyebrows raise and Ezequiel laughs, making me look at him.

"I love it when you talk like that," Ezequiel tells me. "It makes me think of the dirty things I'll do to you when we get back."

"Not now?" I ask. The desire that runs through me just by being in his presence makes my voice crack.

Ezequiel hears this and smirks. “No. We don’t want to be late now, do we? Your dress and shoes are there.”

He nods toward the bedroom, and with wide eyes, I run toward it. Jeremiah laughs as I run past him. However, I stop in my tracks when I see the dress hanging on the bathroom door.

“Oh my God,” I murmur.

"I think he likes it," Jeremiah laughs.

"Come on, come on, come on." I pushed Jeremiah out of the room. "Give me 30 minutes and I'll be ready."

I hear him and Ezekiel laughing as I run to the bathroom. I stop again when I reach the dress, sliding my hand down the soft fabric. Silver, silk, thin straps, and now that I'm closer, I can see the two thigh-high slits in the front. I'm sure that had something to do with their decision to buy this dress. That, and the plunging neckline. It's perfect.

I look for the shoes and find not only one of the prettiest heels I've ever seen, but also a handbag next to it. Both are black: the shoes have a silver heel, and the handbag has a silver chain.

"Thank you!" I shout before entering the bathroom.

I rush to shower and get ready, enjoying the feel of silk gliding over my skin. I grab the products I need and hurry to comb my hair, parting it on the left side, near my right eye, before tucking it behind my ear. I curl the ends and get up to go find my shoes and purse. I sling my purse over my shoulder as I step into my heels, leaving my phone and room card inside. It's all I need. Okay, maybe not all I need, because when I open the door and see Jeremiah and Ezequiel standing there, I start to reevaluate.

"Do you like it?" Ezequiel asks.

"Much more than liking," I say, feeling like it was more of a confession than I intended. But they've got me so crazy right now.

The ones in suits do it. Jeremiah wears a dark gray suit and a white shirt with a few buttons undone at the top. Ezequiel wears a black suit, a black shirt, and a silver and black pocket square. They both look so sexy that I feel the need to make sure I don't drool. They both wear black and silver watches.

"Did they try to match me a little?" I joke.

"We have to make sure that any man who looks at us knows we're with us," Jeremiah says.

I raise my eyebrows. “Really? And I think you mean it’s also for any woman who dares to look at them.”

"Are you complaining about something?" Ezequiel asks.

—I thought that was pretty clear already.—

He smiles and I wonder what's going on behind those brown eyes.

Is she fighting her own war right now, trying to convince herself to trust again, to give again, to... love again? Which way is she leaning? Her words are kind, her smile genuine, and that softness in her eyes when she looks at me has become more and more common. But I know what it's like to have promised yourself, to have sworn to yourself, that you wouldn't let anyone break your heart. I'm only just getting over that promise I made to myself at this very moment.

Can he?

Jeremiah's hand rests on my lower back and I look up at him. This man is caught between two people with fragile hearts and stubborn wills. If either of us strays, if either of us walks away, we will suffer. We all will.

Jeremiah frowns as his other hand rests on my cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I swallow the truth, I don't want to ruin this night. "I'm glad you did all this."

"Let us know when the next trip is and we'll be there too," Ezequiel says.

I chuckle. "Deal. Well, dinner and drinks. Let's go."

We leave the room and walk down the hallway to the elevator. When the doors close and I look at our reflections in the steel, a feeling of well-being washes over me. Jeremiah to my right. Ezequiel to my left. Me, in the middle. It just feels perfect. As if this was what I'd been waiting for when I insisted on not expecting anything.

"Yes," Jeremiah murmurs.

I look at him and he smiles at me. The doors open, and right outside the hotel, a limousine is stopped.

"Well, well. They really want some action tonight, huh?" I joke.

"You're a romantic," Jeremiah laughs as the driver opens the door.

"But he's not wrong," Ezequiel says, chuckling.

I walk in first, scanning the seats as they sit behind me. Ezekiel crosses over to sit on the other side.

"Do you like me being with you all the time?" I ask.

"Yes," Ezequiel replies.

One word and then his hand reaches my exposed thigh and I think maybe he's winning that internal war too.

The walk to the restaurant is short, and when I arrive, I'm glad I didn't look for it sooner, because the first impression is impressive. The entrance isn't so, although it's beautiful, with the dim light from the large chandeliers that I see every time the man at the front lets someone in. But there's not much to see from that floor, because the restaurant is high up.

"Are you kidding?" I try to say quietly, but the people watching me tell me I said it louder than I meant to. Anyway.

"I hope you're not afraid of heights," Jeremiah says.

—If I did, I'd get over it while I got up there.

—Ready then? — asks Ezequiel.

—So clever.—

Jeremiah's hand returns to my lower back, guiding me forward. I expected Ezekiel to be right next to us, but he hangs back a little. Jeremiah tells the hostess the name of our reservation, and we wait for the elevator to come down. Ezekiel also hangs back a little. I glance over and give him a smile, but it fades when I realize how uncomfortable he is. He looks at the people around us, his other hand tightening. I don't understand. Ezekiel isn't a self-conscious or nervous guy.

The elevator doors open and we step inside, along with another couple. I reach out to take Ezekiel's hand, but he tucks it away in his pocket. I convince myself he didn't see my hand reaching for his, that he didn't simply reject my touch. Maybe he's not winning that war after all. But thinking about why he has to fight himself makes me realize what's going on. Aside from the pool after the wedding, after our first night together, we've never been out in public together. And certainly, being in public makes him think of her. It makes him remember how, in the end, she was embarrassed to be seen with the two of them. He keeps his distance so I don't have to be the one to create that distance, as he assumes I will. As he fears I will.

We reach the top and the doors open again. I can't help but gasp. It's absolutely stunning. A black ceiling with large, circular, burnt-orange lights. The black carpet muffles the sound of my heels as I step out of the elevator. Square tables with large, high-backed chairs are scattered throughout the restaurant, but I hope they seat us at the circular tables closest to the windows.

“Wright?” a young man asks.

"Yes," Ezequiel replies.

\-Here.-